The Faykers are back with an original song about the patriarch of the Deadhead scene on the Jersey Shore and his minions of Andy Griffin Themesong whistling troubadors and their splintered barefoot spinning adventures under the warm glow of the boardwalk neon. This is the true tale of a small band of fairy spanksters that grew into a slightly larger group and then kinda disappeared one day, weird huh? Watch as they drop strange magical liquid from visine bottles on sugar cubes, diner crackers (not for individual resale) and newspaper while they turn on every prepubescent delinquent, vandal and runaway from North St to the secret pavilion on 14th street. Listen as they take you down a memory lane you've probably never been to. Feel the vibes of the cool breeze of the moonlit night air after a hot day of sweating and sleeping under a lifeboat. Smell the salty spray of yellow foam tumbleweeds as they dance with the aroma of cotton candy, caramel (pronounced KAR-mul) corn and pizza. Taste the small fragments of enamel as you grit your teeth to the thrills and chills of chemical manipulation as they ripple down the back of your neck and into your spine. Get out your bongos, throw away your razor and shoes and groove to the tones of the natural earth free from strife and responsibility. Take a mental vacation with the Faykers for a few minutes and they promise to drop you off with a smile or a Cheshire grin.
This is the sort of music that scares Marilyn Manson, a nice trip-happy groove, love the re-flanged guitar tone. One star off cuz I really wanted to hear the words, and can't! Selfish, I know. Almost makes me want to head to Jersey. Almost. :)